


Fairest of Them All

by heliosjongho



Series: disney but make it kpop [2]
Category: ATEEZ (Band)
Genre: Alternate Universe - Fairy Tale, Canon Compliant, Cute Han Jisung | Han, Happy Ending, I ain't making ateez dwarves lol, I swear this has a happy ending, Jung Wooyoung-centric, LONG PARAGRAFS, Light Angst, M/M, Oblivious Woosan, Snow White Elements, UNGODLY AMOUNT OF DESCRIPTIONS, but like that's hot, but san loves him, especially mingi, i guess, i love jisung okay, jisung is a mirror, jisung is comedy relief, minho is a bitch, no beta we die like men, prince!wooyoung, san is a cutie, seongjoong parents of the year, so is everyone else, the light angst tag is there as a warning, wooyoung and the 7 miners?, wooyoung is so oblivious
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-02-27
Updated: 2020-02-27
Packaged: 2021-02-27 12:07:44
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings, Underage
Chapters: 1
Words: 10,268
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/22476892
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/heliosjongho/pseuds/heliosjongho
Summary: UNFINISHED. please read when it's done soon.
Relationships: Choi San/Jung Wooyoung, Kim Hongjoong/Park Seonghwa
Series: disney but make it kpop [2]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/1554136
Comments: 1
Kudos: 5





	Fairest of Them All

**Author's Note:**

> this is unbeta'd and probably has lots of errors but enjoy <33

Once upon a time in midwinter, when the snowflakes were falling like feathers from heaven, in a small kingdom called Gardenia, rich in culture and economy, the reigning queen was found sitting and sewing by her ebony window. Winter had come fast that year, and the castle needed extra bundle of hot clothing to endure what was left of the tremendous but calm weather. The sky didn't seem sad nor melancholic, in fact, it seemed as if winter made the weather and mother nature happy that its presence still stands strong, at least until the last months roll by and everyone, including the sky will bid adieu to the beauty that winter left this year.

It had certainly been a good year, economically and in well being, both in the castle and outside its doors. The queen was happy.

And she couldn't be happier knowing she had a baby on the way.

Whilst finishing up a little blue baby hat made of yarn, she stared at the falling snow in the dark of night, and slightly daydreamed about what her child shall be called, and how it shall look like. The woman had no doubt in her mind that her baby will be beautiful since birth.

Caught up in her thoughts, she didn't realize —until she felt a slight pinch of pain— that she had pricked her finger with the needle. She looked down, and the blood dripped into the snow laying on her window frame, mixing red with white in the most beautiful way.

In the midst of winter, she wished to the falling snow, "Oh pretty winter, bring me my child before you perish, and let him grow beautiful and wise, with skin white as your very snow, lips red as blood, and hair black as ebony. It's all I wish should I pass away soon enough, at least let him live and let him be the fairest prince, with the kindest heart."

A soft knock came, and the queen turned to the source of the sound. A maid was peeking through the small opening she made of the door, afraid she might have disturbed the monarch.

"Your Majesty, why aren't you in bed yet? You must rest now, it's late." She whispered.

The queen gave her a small smile.

"I apologize, Elizabeth. I just wanted to finish a gift for when my baby is born." She looked down at the 10 weeks old bump that was about ready to show the little newborn the light of the world.

The maid nearly cooed at the small hat made of yarn. "That's wonderful, my queen. The future heir is very much going to love wearing it."

The woman acknowledged her maid's comment, and dismissed her after promising a second time she was headed to bed. But not before she stopped by the edge of her royal bed, that she spared a last glance to the falling snowflakes in the dark night, and wished for the last time that her son might be free of any harm coming his way, and stay beloved by everyone.

As the spring came round soon enough, the kingdom was euphoric as the lovely queen gave birth to the most extraordinary child. Just like her wish, as if it was a prophecy come true, her little son had skin white as snow, lips red as blood, and hair black like ebony and the night itself. Thus, for this blessing, the queen gave him a name as beautiful as he was: Jung Wooyoung. Unfortunately, a great sadness came too. Tragedy struck, and the queen died as soon as he was born.

Not only the king, but everyone in Gardenia was devastated by the sudden loss of a great monarch, that certainly couldn't ever be replaced, with her piety, kindness, vast education, and her way of ruling that made her such a respected, amiable and delightful queen.

A year passed, and the kind king did everything in his might to protect Wooyoung, now a toddler and walking on his own two legs, from the evil of the world, even if the citizens were all good hearted. People could put on a facade and pretend to be someone they are not, so Wooyoung was mostly relocated in the castle, but of course his father wasn't that cruel to not let him go to the outside world. Sometimes, on his journeys to a nearby kingdom, he took the little child with him. It was in a nearby kingdom, in fact, that he found the one he would marry, so as to not remain a widower. However, this was no woman, but a man. The ruler of the kingdom of Mist. The mere fact of the noble and kind king marrying a man was blasphemous to the townsfolk, who religiously believed that men or women being simply intimate with their genre was considered a sin. But the king thought the citizens were in the wrong, and once he remarried and everyone got used to seeing the new king from Mist become too the ruler of Gardenia, every person did begin to feel sympathy and respect for them.

Lee Minho was known for his incredible beauty, both in Mist and in Gardenia. But the citizens of Gardenia seldom realized that when he was firstly introduced to the villagers and nobles of the tiny kingdom. They had never seen a face so fair in all the land. His beauty was certainly obvious within just a side glance. Covering a small but manly bone structure was soft feathery like skin without a trace of wrinkles or deformities, hair almost as black as Wooyoung's, piercing eyes, a well defined nose and jaw, and nice rosy lips. Not only was his face attractive, but his long and muscular thighs held by a small waist and masculine build turned Minho into a fatal attraction for women and also some slick men that tried to hide the fact that Lee Minho was simply perfect in every way.

But although Minho was indeed handsome, he held a dark secret from the world, that obviously noone would ever find out. Though he was beauteous, he was prideful, vain, self conceited, narcissistic, proud and arrogant. His heart was dark and black. He could not stand it if anyone might surpass him and be more beautiful than him. Of course, that has never happened, and Minho doubts it ever will. He also spent hours staring at a mirror in his room, but this was no ordinary mirror.

Every day he asked, "Mirror mirror on the wall, who in the land is the fairest of them all?"

And the mirror would light up and reply with, "You, my king, are the fairest in all the land."

Thus every day he was satisfied, for he knew the magic mirror told no lies.

The years passed, and Wooyoung grew as a happy child. The remembrance of his mother faded into oblivion as he got older. He couldn't remember the lovely woman that brought him to this world, but from the stories his father would tell him, he was certain that he she lived a life that was cut too short. Sometimes Wooyoung wished he were able to remember him, even the slightest hint of her, but he knew it impossible to do so. He didn't have anything to remember her by, and Wooyoung was saddened by this fact, but he figured his father was too heartbroken to keep any mementos of his former wife, so Wooyoung didn't question it and only saw his mother in photographs.

When he was about 7, the king allowed Wooyoung to take dancing and singing classes in his spare time. He knew how Wooyoung had taken an interest and liking to singing and ballet in general just like his mother had, and he saw it as a way to keep his lover and his first child's memory alive. Wooyoung's stepfather, he was nervous at first in his presence when his father remarried, but the boy took a big liking to him soon enough. Though he wasn't always the kindest, but there were instances where he played games with him, took walks with him through the garden or even accompanied him to his classes at the small ballet academy right next to the school. However those instances grew more and more rare as Wooyoung grew older. His 13th birthday came and he had to prepare to become king. Once his father and stepfather passed, he would be the one to become king. He felt ready enough to take the throne, even if he hadn't finished school yet. He would take full responsibility for it. But nonetheless, the idea of Wooyoung taking the throne after his father irked Minho severely, and he slowly began to withdraw himself from the boy. 

Now, Wooyoung was 20 and a dazzling beauty. He was so beautiful in fact, he rivaled his stepfather's own beauty. Words wouldn't be enough to describe the man he had grown up to become. He was more mature but for many years he has kept that soft baby face he always had. A well-shaped and curvaceous body contained a face with silky-white honey skin, brown eyes that always sparkled as if a galaxy could be found inside, voluptuous crimson lips, all whilst his face shape remained youthful and beautiful. Upon closer inspection, the beauty mark near his eyes added more elegance to his young persona. But perhaps his smile was the most gorgeous thing Wooyoung had the chance to be blessed with. When Wooyoung smiled, his eyes would crinkle and his entire mouth would open and produce a loud and pleasant sound akin to a giggle. His body proportions were ethereal, a sight to behold. They were an exact replica of Minho's figure, although less prominent at the thighs whilst his waist was shaped like an hourglass, his hips were sensual and his back was as flexible as a ballerina. People adored prince Wooyoung, for his sensuous proportions and kind and cute demeanor. 

Wooyoung remembered the exact day he met Seo Changbin. He was 8, just started attending the dance academy, and his father had found a poor boy his age by the castle door, and as he was so kind hearted, he took the boy in and let him live in the castle as the king's personal huntsman. Wooyoung wondered how someone so young could have the knowledge of a profession such as that, but soon he came to learn that Changbin came from a lineage of hunters, right after his father who perished whilst trying to trap a wild bear in a fight. He only had his mother and sisters left, and since they were poor, he worried he might not make enough of a profit to visit them occasionally and leave them meals and drinks to last for days. But of course the monarch knew where he was coming from, and Changbin felt happy to serve such a wonderful soul.

It didn't take long for Wooyoung and Changbin to become friends. Even Wooyoung himself was surprised at how quickly he had befriended his new friend —and let it be known that he was quite a shy person and took him a while to open up to new people. He was sitting on the new swing that his stepfather tied to the strongest limb of the oldest tree in the garden. He enjoyed the serenity of nature; the birds chirping, the leaves rustling, and the wind softly hitting his face. Wooyoung felt alive.

"Your Highness?" A voice disturbed Wooyoung from his sense of peace. He turned to the voice's owner. It was that boy, the young hunter. He looked shy, intimidated even. With big doe eyes and fiddling fingers he stood awkwardly next to the swing Wooyoung was sat on.

With a warm smile, the prince greeted him. "Hello! Your name is Changbin right?"

Changbin's posture straightened and smiled shyly. "Your Highness- I don't have any friends my age in the castle and everyone is scary..." He grew stiff. "Would you... would you be my friend?"

Wooyoung nearly laughed at how adorable and shy his new acquaintance was. He hopped off his spot in the swing and took the boy's hand. "We _are_ friends, idiot." He giggled softly. "And please, call me Wooyoung."

Their friendship began that day, and ever since then they have played, talked and bonded in that garden that spread until the farthest hills on castle grounds, where they would sometimes slide off it and relinquish in the joy of childhood while they could before their own duties would keep them busy.

In the present, the now best friends were on a gentle stroll down the lake, feeding the ducks and swans floating along the gentle waters. They decided to take a break and sit on the gazebo that had become Wooyoung's favorite place, simply to just look at the lake in a perfect view, and talk to Changbin about anything, for he knew the hunter would understand and give the best advice.

Wooyoung liked the way Changbin gave him guidance, love and security.

"If you should ever want to marry a prince, I think you should just say you want to be wed to him. It's the 15th century, anything is possible!" His best friend laughed after Wooyoung became the hopeless romantic for a minute and started to gush about marrying a handsome young lad, maybe royalty, and travel the world and feel free in some sort of way. But all that was wishful thinking, Wooyoung was the future of this kingdom and he will rightfully do his job when it comes.

"You know how bad I am at making confessions," Wooyoung smiled, blushing slightly. "Though with a little push I may be able to do it."

"In that case," Changbin faked being deep in thought, hand rubbing his chin. "My advice still is to say it with no shame." Wooyoung saw coming the tease, but he still laughed.

"Binnie, you're not helpful."

"But I'm your best friend for a reason." The hunter winked.

Wooyoung clutched his heart dramatically. "Ouch, you're right. I could never throw away Seo Changbin, royal huntsman and loyal friend to prince Wooyoung." Now it was Woo's turn to tease.

Changbin playfully hit Wooyoung on the shoulder. "Bloody arse."

"Excuse me?" The prince challenged.

It was hard for Changbin to break the mould he's made in the face of what Wooyoung would call an angry squirrel. He loved to tease the older boy just to annoy Changbin, but he did not mind if it made Wooyoung happy. He could always tease back so it's a win-win situation between them.

"You know what I said-"

"Jung Wooyoung!" A shrill scream teared the calm atmosphere both friends were trapped in and Wooyoung whipped his head to the sound of the voice that called him in a rather aggravating tone.

His stepfather was watching the two of them down from his balcony, eyes like daggers boring into Wooyoung. The death stare made him gulp and, without trying to shake, he said, "Yes, stepfather?"

It didn't seem to help ease Minho's expression. It remained stone cold and quite bothersome. "Are you a fool? Your poor father collapses from his bed when he's deathly sick, and his own son can't even visit him? You know the king is dying and yet you are talking with a nobody? Come at once and see your father."

Both men looked down in shame. Wooyoung did not know why Minho changed suddenly, as if he resented the young prince and Wooyoung wished to have the knowledge as to why he aggravated Minho so much. He misses the times where Minho would take him to school or play with him, even if he wasn't in the greatest mood. He missed that caring Minho, even if he wasn't the kindest, more than anything.

Wooyoung sighed and looked at his companion. "Best I go. Will you be okay?"

Changbin nodded. "You know those comments don't bother me, I know I'm a lowborn, but that doesn't make me useless. I've got you." He squeezed Wooyoung's shoulder in a comforting manner and smiled a little. "Now go. Your father needs you.

Turns out, it was too late for the king.

Wooyoung received the message of his sick father and entered through the garden door until the gothic architecture caught his attention. Running down through the long, pristine hallways, Wooyoung familiarised himself with his enormous home just as he reached the king's bedroom. The prince was sweating, shaking, wishing just for the most important person in his life to be okay. 

With a shaky hand he opened the door, and his heart stopped.

He felt as his world fell from his palms and onto the ground, shattering into a useless mess of imaginary shards that could never be put up together.

His father, his king, had died.

Just one glance was enough for Wooyoung to know. One second, he was standing in shock staring at the one who raised him all these years, pale as the moonlight shining through the windows. Another second passed and he was on his knees as his legs gave in, and sobbed into the floor, wishing this was all a nightmare that he would wake up from and find his father alive and healthy again. He sobbed for the people he lost, who raised him into who he was today. He sobbed as his soul and broken heart fell deep into the precipice of darkness where they might never see the light again, Wooyoung might never be happy again.

Wooyoung felt cold arms surrounding his curled up body.

"I know it hurts, Wooyoung." Minho said behind his back. But all Wooyoung could hear was static; muffling sounds in his ears. He couldn't concentrate.

He turned and hugged Minho with all his might, as if his stepfather, no matter how cruel he was some times, could disappear too. Wooyoung didn't want to be left alone.

"Why?" He sobbed into the man's shoulder. "Why did he have to leave me?"

Minho didn't respond.

He just stared at the king in his deathbed, as a smirk crept up to his lips.

* * *

The tall castle of Gardenia, made of white stone and towering black walls stood on the edge of a cliff, overlooking the ocean. Its gothic style during dusk seemed to twist it into a sort of terrifying building where monstrous supernatural creatures should inhabit. It loomed over the land, the forest surrounded it on the other side, and a huge stone staircase led from the gardens up to the main castle itself. Hidden in the throne room, where king Minho resided with the window facing into the court instead of out to the ocean or forest, the new king drew the curtains and stepped up to face a rather large, oval shaped mirror. Minho's most prized possession.

Before Minho asked it every day the only question that he needed answers to, he stopped to stare and admire his reflection staring back at him in the mirror. Though it's been only two months since the late king passed and Minho took in the crown, people who had never seen even a portrait of him would wonder just how good looking he was to be so careful and vain of his beauty. He was still good looking of course. Just by looking at his face, anyone would think he was a lovely and good person at heart. How wrong would they turn out to be when they figure out his heart cold as ice. That man was slim in form and elegant in appearance, masking in a façade of the holy king he was.

Everyone eventually knew how cruel their king truly was. He never smiled, never showed any diversity of emotions apart from the same, icy look in his eyes that was as sharp as blades. As long as no one surpassed his beauty, he would show some compassion for the kingdom.

But for now, it was all about him and his beauty. 

The heavy crown bathed in gold and jewels that rested on Minho's head glimmered off the reflection in his magic mirror as he parted his arms slightly and his midnight black cloak hit the ground.

"Slave in the mirror, come to me from the farthest space through wind and darkness, I summon thee!" 

Wind came from outside the windows and quickly picked up, becoming a ravishing force that the king seemed to not be bothered by. The wind howled and entered the mirror, bright flames floated about inside the dark glass, until they evaporated into nothing in seconds, revealing darkness yet again.

"Speak, slave! Show me your face!"

Suddenly the mirror showed the image of an irritably cute background with animals and green grass, and in the center of it stood a young boy, handsome, with a face resembling a squirrel, —an animal which he so happened to have up on his shoulder— ashy blonde hair and smiling like the artificial sunshine glowing down on him, cooing at the critters around him.

Han Jisung.

Minho turned green with an inexplicably amount of annoyance in the pit of his stomach and groaned deeply. He wanted to vomit, cute things were atrocious.

"Jisung, I have told you multiple times to stop changing places when I summon you for my beauty routine!" The king glared at the nonchalant boy, seemingly more busy with his animal friends than Minho.

"Minho, you do remember clearly that yer the one t' put everything in here right? I was a wee little boy and you fancied that I so deserved to have a place alone for myself." Jisung said with a very heavy accent, reminiscent of whence he came from before becoming Minho's slave and before eventually becoming a mirror only for Minho to use to his liking.

"Tone down your Scottish accent will you? I cannot stand the sound of it!" Minho huffed, frustrated with the boy. "You know why I called you, so tell me Jisung, who in the land is the fairest of them all?" Minho crossed his arms in a graceful manner and awaited the reply.

"Well, let's see m'dear" Jisung teased, and pretended to think. He never lied, so of course Minho will certainly know his truthful words every day. "My king, my Majesty, you are the fairest, it is true." Minho smiled satisfied, but Jisung held up a hand, gathering his attention. "Aye, but-" Jisung stood up and the squirrel left his shoulder. He had a serious face, and the background started to fade to black; how it normally was when Minho greeted his mirror. "Though your beauty is famed, I see a lovely boy, hidden in these same castle walls. His gentle grace flows like a river, and he's the one fairer than you."

Minho narrowed his eyes, offended at the odds that one could possibly be fairer than him. "Alas for him! Reveal his name."

Jisung chuckled lightly, as if he somehow perceived the king would ask such a thing. 

"My king, the boy fairer than you has lips red as the rose, hair black as ebony, and skin white as snow. The fairest in the land is dear and kind prince Wooyoung."

Minho widened his eyes, gasped silently and flinched in anger and envy. "Wooyoung." he seethed.

* * *

Later that same evening, Minho stared at Wooyoung, who was sat on the grass with his head down, probably still saddened by his father's sudden death. However Changbin arrived by his side soon, and the prince's expression became livelier, more happy than he probably was in the early morning. The king noticed them hugging, and Changbin then probably said something to make Wooyoung laugh, for he could hear that high pitched laugh from his balcony.

Minho sneered angrily at the prince. Ever since his honest Jisung told him said prince was the fairest in the land, whenever he looked at Wooyoung his heart turned and twisted inside his body, filled with rage, hatred and envy that would not stop growing greater, like a weed in his heart. He despised Wooyoung. He was disgusted at his astonishing beauty, that was somehow greater than his.

" _I won't allow it,_ " he thought. " _This cannot be allowed, I'm the fairest one in this kingdom!_ "

Minho had his mind made up, at that moment his expression had turned into one of such unforgiveness that there was no doubt what he had already chosen to do with Wooyoung.

"You perfect, beautiful and naive child," Minho fumed lowly. "I might have no choice but to eliminate you from this world."

With murderous and heartless thoughts in his mind, he glared daggers at the happy pair in the garden and drew the red curtains that led to his room closed in disgust.

His Majesty had requested Changbin to enter the throne room.

The young hunter had never seen the throne room up close in all his stay at the castle, since the former king didn't spend much of his days in that room, but no one knew why. It was pretty, as Changbin could tell. High dark ebony wood constructed the main walls that reached from the ground up, and a magnificent chandelier hung from the recently painted ceiling that held in its brown color beautiful flowers that Changbin did not know the name of; but Wooyoung surely could name them in a second. Extending all the way to the far of the room was a white marble floor covered in a big red carpet, one that always seemed to be impeccably clean no matter how many people walked through it. Of course, the main centerpiece was most beautiful. A throne bathed in the purest gold, shaped like a peacock and decorated with small jewels that Changbin assumed were sapphires. The peacock shaped throne seeming towering and intimidating even as the huntsman walked slowly, and nervously, to the center of the room to assist the king.

Changbin stopped dead in his tracks, and stared at Minho sat on the ornately decorated throne, gold heavy crown appearing as an illusion by the way it melted into the gold of the throne from how striking the gold was. His black, flowing coat spilt onto the ground beside and under him from how long it was. Changbin noticed the basil green shirt, embellished in _fleur de lis_ patterns. With both his hands gripping the arms of the gold chair, the king seemed terrifyingly intimidating in the way his eyes bored into Changbin, and the hunter bowed down in an act of pure anxiousness as he avoided eye contact and awaited his orders.

"My dear Changbin," the king began calmly, but the hunter could feel the tint of disgust in his voice. He gulped. "I want you to take Wooyoung on a walk to the forest somewhere secluded and free of people, and leave him be off to pick wildflowers as he so likes very much to collect." He spoke slowly and firmly.

Changbin dared look at the king and bowed a second time. "Yes, your Majesty." Thankfully his voice did not falter.

Minho hummed. "And then, my _faithful_ huntsman, you will kill him."

Changbin felt his world collapse as he heard the orders spoken loud and clear. He froze, his mind malfunctioned. Surely the king didn't possibly order him to do something as cruel and malicious as that.

"B-but your Majesty..." he cried in disbelief. "The prince—"

"Silence!" The king stood up enraged with a thunder in his eyes. He pointed at the other, eyes burning sharply into him. "Do not let me repeat myself again. I do not care what you think of Wooyoung or how close you are, if you dare disobey me, you know the penalty that shall await you." He sneered with pure hatred in his voice.

Changbin inhaled sharply, brain a mess full of panic and fear. He couldn't do this. He won't do this to Wooyoung. But if he wanted his only friend to be safe, he needed to lead the king into a false sense of trust. "Yes.... your Majesty." He nodded. His entire body was shaking.

"Good." Minho seemed quite pleased. "But to make doubly sure that you do in fact not fail me," he walked over to a nearby wooden box not of a relatively big size, painted in red and blue, forged in a dagger piercing through a heart. "bring me back his heart in this box."

Changbin cursed himself mentally as his trembling hands picked up the box from the mad king, and he bowed one last time before putting it in his satchel. He turned and hurried back out from the dreaded throne room.

The hunter reached his room, and as soon as the door closed, he allowed himself to get a panic attack. He couldn't concentrate, his mind was a jumbled mess of confusion and insecurity. What was happening? The king was for sure mistaken to have ordered such a thing, or else he truly was mad and deranged. Did Minho really order Changbin to kill off Wooyoung? And for what? What kind of reason did he have behind all of it, what kind of cause drove him to such command? Why the prince out of any person? It could have been someone else, someone truly despicable, some person that's really done heinous unforgivable crimes, or even an innocent wild animal for resources. But why his best friend?

Unless...

No... it was mad. Clearly the king was not jealous of Wooyoung's beauty, right? It was madness. How could someone want to eliminate an innocent soul out of pure jealousy? Perhaps Changbin was going mad, in fact he preferred he go mad rather than really believing the crazy fact that the king is blinded by envy.

He couldn't ever harm Wooyoung. He couldn't. He wouldn't.

Did he really have to? Changbin just wanted to cry at the thought of his best friend gone by his own doing. He'd rather die before harming someone he truly loved.

Changbin checked back into reality, and ran a shaking hand through his black hair. He needed to calm down, he needed to be brave and tell Wooyoung to flee, to run away hopefully to someplace where he can be safe. But could he really do it? No, of course he could. He'll tell him when they reach the forest.

Now he just needed to tell the prince to get ready.

Trying to calm himself down, he walked through the top most stairs until he reached the door to the far left of the halfway. Gulping, he knocked softly. 

"Wooyoung? The king has asked of me to take you out to the forest and pick some flowers. When you're ready, please do tell me so."

Changbin rested his back against the wall, sweating profusely. He didn't want this to happen.

Wooyoung perked up happily at the sound of his best friend's voice. At present, he found himself reading _The Divine Comedy_ by Dante. It was written in quite old English, for the heir acquired one of the first copies translated to English, and precisely it was kind of hard to read, but Wooyoung didn't mind. Wooyoung had always thought that literature and poetry was one of the most beautiful and intelligent forms of artistic expression. Oh, to be a writer! It certainly had to be a hard profession, the writer in question had to be ambitious, creative, and all in all hard working and inspired. Wooyoung knew he couldn't ever be a writer, and he for sure wasn't as hard working as he'd like to be for a prince, but when the time comes for him to rule, he shan't ever be careless or restless and he shall work as hard as he's never done in his entire 20 years of life. He shall rule with might and dignity, like his late father. He will do it for his people.

But enough of daydreaming, Wooyoung thought. It was time for some needed fresh air.

The prince took his time smoothing out his ashy grey shirt, slightly revealing his collarbones, and on the sleeves were aligned specks of sparkles all the way back to his shoulders. The clothes Wooyoung wore, actually were a little expensive. He couldn't remember the exact date he got them, but faintly recalled his father buying it for him near his birthday, but he's jot certain whether it was a delayed birthday gift or not. Same for the plain black pants he wore, that alongside his favorite shirt, his father bought from the marketplace; oddly enough for royalty to go where peasants wandered. Although Wooyoung never understood why, he didn't think much of it. He still loved and missed his dad deeply.

The young prince seated at his vanity to quickly brush his ebony hair that had somehow grown a little longer these last days, it just got long enough to cover half of his eyes. He didn't want to look like a prince who didn't groom himself well enough, so he parted his hair to each side and left a bit of the longer strands to conceal the top part of his brown eyes. He stared at himself. Beauty. That's something he always heard the kingdom say about him, that he was beautiful. Or perhaps, ethereal.

Contrary to the popular belief and gossip, Wooyoung didn't understand the big deal about being beautiful. After all, beauty is subjective right? Beauty worked in mysterious ways, Wooyoung liked to think. Everyone had it's perks and flaws, but no one in the world should ever be considered ugly by any means or standards. Wooyoung had heard about the types of discrimination that people had to endure and suffer from just because they weren't considered _beautiful._ Was beauty really that important to be treated like a deity, like someone of mighty powers that however felt more compelling and far-reaching than anything else in the world? Still, isn't the beauty found inside of people's hearts, minds, bodies and souls more important than the physical beauty folks seem so addicted with? The prince didn't get it, even he found himself confessing that yes, although he was beautiful, was his beauty really the most extraordinary one in the land?

That's reaching a bit too far, in fact he always thought Minho was still more handsome than him.

But never mind that, Wooyoung could sit and ponder about this for the rest of the day. All he wanted now was to enjoy a walk with his only friend.

For one last time, he smoothened his hair and smiled at his reflection before walking out his bedroom door. He saw Changbin against the wall, face as pale as the white marble floor beneath him.

Why Changbin," Wooyoung giggled. "You look like you've seen a ghost. Are you alright?"

The prince noticed his friend filled to the brim with hunting equipment: a belt full of hunting knives and a quiver and bow on his back. He wondered if this was more than just a walk through the woods for him, and also took it as an opportunity to hunt some wild animals for his family, considering Wooyoung knew just how much the hunter's family had been suffering lately. For once he wished there was something he could do, but with the new king on the throne it was difficult to say. Still, Wooyoung hoped Changbin could do something nice for his family.

Changbin snapped out of whatever thoughts he had going through his head and smiled forcefully at the prince.

"I'm fine, your Highness. Don't worry about me."

Wooyoung giggled a second time. "You do know you don't need to call me that, dummy. We're friends!"

Changbin chuckled lightly and nodded in response. His heart stung.

"Shall we go?" He asked.

Wooyoung smiled.

"We shall."

* * *

They journeyed through the forest in broad twilight. The two men walked together in a comfortable silence, passing the gingko trees that made the woods look like a never ending labyrinth of bushes, trees and other shrubbery. But still, the forest seemed to shine as the sunset was glorious that day. The rays filtered through the clouds painting them a bright combination of red, orange and purple. The sun that looked like a bruised mango was magnificent as its glory spread throughout the sky, and everything was suddenly splashed in screaming colors. The sun was no less warmer than other days, and Wooyoung worried that as the warmth hit his face and back both of them might catch on fire.

It felt like trekking through a desert disguised as a forest.

The men finally reached the clearing after trudging through the deep thicket. The birds chirped around them, and the clouds started to cover the sun and sky, meaning nightfall was about to come.

Wooyoung almost squealed as he laid sight on the valley, and all but bounced off to collect his flowers.

Changbin thought he had never seen Wooyoung shine so bright.

The prince, he moved gracefully side to side, collecting all sorts of wildflowers in a variety of colors, from yellow to purple. More than just moving, he seemed to be bouncing off, as if he was a ballerina. Perhaps this was where Wooyoung shined, like a natural habitat. Never had the hunter seen Wooyoung feel so free, so graceful.

So happy.

And still as Wooyoung sang a lovely melody, a music he heard his friend sing whenever he felt at peace, his heart felt pierced by a thousand daggers just considering what he had been ordered to do. With sad eyes, he stood underneath a tree watching as the wind gently blew through Wooyoung's ebony hair, making him seem so innocent and elegant. And then Wooyoung turned to face Changbin, and he flashed that smile — that same fucking smile full of love and happiness — and the hunter wanted to cry. His heart was more broken beyond relief, and he didn't know if it could ever mend.

Changbin watched him from afar, chewing his lip. He and the prince were the same age. Technically, what he’d been asked to do was treasonous as it was the prince’s birth father who had really been on the throne and not his stepfather. Wooyoung should have taken over the throne, not some hellish criminal like Minho. To kill the heir to the throne was treason, but it was illegal to ignore or disobey an order from the king himself. Changbin shuddered, considering what would happen if he failed as well. Still, the prince looked so innocent and calm as he picked the flowers. He almost wanted to hug Wooyoung tight in his arms and protect him from harm's way. To kill such a delicate thing as his best friend was an act unforgivable by his heart's broken pieces.

As Wooyoung happily picked up some more flowers to add to his bouquet, a blue bird sat in his shoulder and he cooed at the baby bird.

"Hello there sweetie," Wooyoung lovingly gushed, taking the bird in his finger. "Are you lost?"

Now that Wooyoung's back was turned, Changbin decided it was time. Painful as it was, he took his sharpest knife out of the belt, and slowly stalked towards the unsuspecting prince.

"Would you like a pair of lovely flowers for your parents, little one? I most certainly believe they will enjoy them!" Wooyoung giggled and picked out the prettiest flowers from the bouquet. The blue bird chirped and gathered them in his beak.

"Good job sweetie, off you go to your mama and papa safe and sound okay?" He sent the little animal off and waved at it as it went into a little nest up a rock.

Wooyoung noticed a shadow engulfing his own one on the ground and turned confused.

He gasped.

Changbin, he looked so far from his usual self Wooyoung couldn't almost believe it was him. _Him._ His best friend. He stood in front of him, knife raised high into the air, ready to stab through Wooyoung's heart. The shadows surrounding him made him look like a real killer. Wooyoung whimpered and scurried back through the forest floor until his back hit the stone wall. He had no means of escape. He was near to crying.

"C-Changbin? W-why are you pointing that knife at me?" He whimpered, covering his face as if it could somehow protect him. "Please don't hurt me!" He begged and looked away.

He felt the knife lunging at him. Wooyoung screamed.

And then, there was nothing.

The cowering boy slowly uncovered his face only to find the knife almost passing through his shirt. Worst of all, it was shaking like mad. Wooyoung turned his gaze towards Changbin, who completely changed his demeanor than a few seconds ago. He looked terrified, to say the least. In the midst of the tension, the knife fell to the floor.

At that moment in time, Wooyoung didn't expect a hug and Changbin crying into his shoulder. But if he were honest, he was so glad whatever Changbin had plotted to do did not happen. He promised he would always look after his friend, and this moment, no matter what he tried to do, won't ever get in the way of their friendship. So Wooyoung did the same, and hugged his friend back, as if afraid to lose him. However, he needed all the answers as to why this suddenly occurred.

"I-I'm so sorry Wooyoung.." He heard the boy cry. "F-forgive me... I could n-never bring myself to harm you."

Wooyoung whimpered and looked at his friend in the eye. "I know, Changbin.. I knew it had to be madness for you to actually harm me in some way, but... I don't understand. Why would you suddenly try to do this?"

The hunter knew the prince would come with questions, and he wouldn't ever lie to him. "Wooyoung, listen to me." He grabbed his dear friend's hand. "He's mad, jealous of you. He will stop at nothing until he knows for sure you are dead."

Wooyoung panicked even more. "But- but who? Who could ever want me dead?" Want the prince dead? That truly was demented.

Changbin sighed in a frenzy. "The king."

Now that, Wooyoung didn't expect.

"T-the king? My stepfather?" He said in disbelief. "I don't understand..."

"He didn't say the reason why, but all I know is that his psychotic behaviour won't stop unless he knows for sure you no longer exist in the kingdom. He ordered me to kill you...." He took a moment to gather his breath. "But deep down I knew I couldn't bring myself to hurt you, I just could never. You mean so much to me." The young hunter cried again, devastated that he had to suffer from the weight of that command without Wooyoung knowing. Wooyoung bit his lip. He wished his dear friend could forget this horrible experience, something that was eating at his insides like a parasite wouldn't leave him alone. Right now, Wooyoung knows he's still going to be haunted by all of this.

"T-then.... whatever shall I do?" The young prince whispered to his companion.

"You need to run, hide. Find some shelter away from the kingdom..... I'll trick the king into thinking you are dead, but I'm afraid it's best if you flee to some place in the forest or a nearby village..." Changbin didn't want this to happen, but he needed to keep Wooyoung safe. "Promise me." He hugged his friend for what could be the last time in a long while.

Wooyoung softly sniffled and nodded in agreement. "I'll hide... I promise. I'm going to miss you so much, Binnie." Wooyoung told his dear friend, holding him tight, scared he might disappear into thin air.

He glanced at the abandoned bouquet of wildflowers at his side, and withdrew himself from Changbin's side to grab it. "Take it with you." He softly said. "Do tell your mother and siblings that I send my warmest regards to them." Woo smiled lightly. "Stay safe, all of you."

Changbin wished the same for the prince as he watched his dearest friend sadly smile to him and took off as he disappeared into the darkest part of the woods and out of Changbin's sight. 

The huntsman knelt there as terror and sadness and all sort of other emotions rose rose up in his insides, twisting his stomach.

"What am I going to do?"

Wooyoung ran through the forest, stumbling over tree roots and tripping over himself. The entrance was covered in ivy and a jungle of vines. He forced himself through them, careful that he didn't stumble upon anything suspicious. Lord knows what awaited him inside these dark and cold woods.

Everywhere he turned were sharp thorns that snagged on his clothes. He pushed his way through yet another sheet of leaves, struggling with them for a moment as they tangled him up in the vines. He stumbled out, flinching back as an owl screeched at him. He took a different path and froze when it seemed a million pairs of eyes were focused on him. Dozens of bats took off, catching in his hair and on his clothes, and Wooyoung suppressed a whimper as he kept running. His shirt caught on thorns again, and he tugged at it in desperation and fear. The castle lights in the distance seemed to taunt him and shine ever brighter, as if he wasn’t really running away but instead closer to his doom at the hands of his stepfather. It felt like hands were pulling him back, back towards the king, back towards being simply the prince heir to the throne instead of the rightful king, back towards being killed by the king's own hand.

When Wooyoung finally got free of the thorns, he stumbled straight into another set that snagged at his clothes too and snagged at his skin. Everything felt like hands to him, and Woo pulled away from them sharply before he followed the path again, further into the forest. Even a tree root resembled a creature with sharp teeth that was ready to pounce out and eat the young man, and Wooyoung let out a small shriek of terror before he turned tail. He tripped on a tree root and fell down off a small cliff, tumbling through dirt and cobwebs before he caught hold of a vine and hung there. He glanced down into the lake of water below him and shivered slightly, when his grip on the vine went and he fell straight in. The logs floating in the river looked too much like crocodiles, and the soaking wet prince tripped over himself to get out of the water.

He shivered, not just because of the cold but due to fear too. Everywhere he turned, everything he saw, it all looked like something that was about to hurt or kill him. He turned away from another tree stump that resembled a rabid creature about to hunt him down and ran. The wind through the forest even made leaves chase after him, and bats swept down to attack his hair too. Wooyoung spun around, trying to find a way out, but a million pairs of intense and terrifying eyes were on him no matter which way he looked.

However, everything turned too much to handle for the poor prince, and terrified out of his mind, he could take no more and collapsed onto the cold forest floor, curling into himself as if he somehow could protect himself from all the monstrous trees and branches from attacking him and drag him somewhere he does not want ro imagine. Wooyoung couldn't take it.

He just remained there, forced to run away from everything he knew and leave all his memories, and life, behind. And now he was alone, cold and damp, and could do nothing more than sob through the night as he buried his head deeper into his arms.

* * *

The castle looked different from the outside. 

In the dead of the night, Changbin returned to the eerie-seeming castle— a castle he thought he knew like his best friend. Instead, in the outside and under the black sky of the Earth, it looked gothic, scary, a completely different building. No longer did it look like the while marble castle that always seemed to shined up in the mountains where resided like a world wonder. It looked like a sinister dark castle that was hard to believe it's the same residence for him and the prince. _Wooyoung._ Changbin remembered the bouquet of flowers deep into his pocket, like a memory trying to hold on, afraid to be forgotten. The remembrance of the boy he considered his other half left him shattered. The boy only wished that the prince was somehow able to find somewhere to stay at least until the king wakes up from his baffling thoughts and it's safe for him to return. Changbin found himself lost without his dear friend.

The cursed throne room seemed the same, Minho in the throne at all. As if time had frozen still and didn't resume until Changbin walked through those gates. 

He bowed to the king, his insides turning.

"I have done what you have ordered of me, my king." Changbin said calmly, a tone of distaste almost leaving his lips.

He saw the shadow of the king towering over him, and reached out his hand for the box Changbin had put hidden in his satchel. The hunter understood the action, and shakily took out the box. Of course, the box wasn't empty. A sacrifice had to be made, but it would never be Wooyoung. Instead, he scouted out a deer and had to rip out the heart from the poor, innocent creature. It made him sick to the core. The king was sick, but he managed to trick the ruler.

"You've done well, Changbin." Minho said in monotone. "You may go. I will call you again if I need of your assistance."

And when has the king ever needed Changbin? Never. He doesn't even care. That's all he wanted, use Changbin to commit homicide that's punishable by death and treason. Minho should be the one to be executed at the guillotine, not Changbin.

But never mind that. Changbin did not care. For his own safety, he just nodded and left the room.

If only he saw how king Minho kept the box between his hands and his eyes glowed with malice, his face painted in a twisting smile.

Changbin became breathless even before he reached his own chamber at the palace. Thank the gods the former king have him a room of his own before he passed, or he would for sure still live in the small house with his family in the village.

His poor family. His poor Wooyoung. 

Changbin could not take it. He broke down in tears, and while he sobbed in bed, he only prayed that Wooyoung was truly safe.

* * *

The sun had come with its morning glory, and the sky was a perfect blue. Wooyoung would agree it was a lovely day to go on a stroll alongside the lake where swans floated about without a care in the world.

Except, Wooyoung wasn't in the perfect world he used to live in.

He passed all night cold and alone in those woods, with scary trees that threatened to grab him and not let him escape. The prince remember all the horrible details. Even after crying himself to sleep, he needed time to breathe and regain his senses. Even just remembering where he was was enough to make him whimper in fear, but surprisingly the forest wasn't the same fearful one that made him jittery. Instead, there were no eyes staring down at him, and no long and spooky branches that were menacing enough to attack him.

All he found around him were... animals. 

Lots of animals.

One by one, little heads peeked out of their hiding spot. Red squirrels, blue birds, bunnies, baby deer, all sorts of them slowly approached the whimpering young man on the forest floor. Wooyoung stared at them as he started wiping at his eyes, his whimpers dying down. One small bunny with dots of brown fur cautiously glanced at him.

As soon as Wooyoung started sitting up, all the animals scattered away in fear.

“N-No, please! Please don’t run away! Come back! I won’t hurt you. I’m awfully sorry. I didn’t mean to frighten you all.” The animals then poked their heads out at him, all the dozens of them, “But you don’t know what I’ve been through. And all because I was afraid.” Wooyoung sighed and held up a hand. A little bluebird landed on his finger and he smiled. “I’m sorry for all the fuss I’ve made. What do you do when things go wrong?”

The bird whistled to him and Wooyoung's face lit up. “You sing?”

The other birds in the area all joined in, tweeting too, and Wooyoung giggled. He hummed along with their singing, swaying slightly.

And in fact, 'twas a lullaby he had come to learn from his music lessons that was quite popular in the kingdom. His late father had once mentioned that if his mother was still alive, she would have definitely sung this to Wooyoung as a little boy. And Wooyoung wished with all his might that he really could've had the chance to meet that woman he had always heard praises of that she seemed like a myth, a goddess maybe.

Still, as Wooyoung sang and the flock of creatures joined his side listening to his beautiful voice, he wondered how nice it would be known for more than just a prince. He wondered if, somehow, someone could listen to his voice whenever he sang and that someone forgot for one second Wooyoung was the prince. It surely would be nice, he concluded. Not that he despised royal life, it was anything he could ask for, but he also would love to be a normal human for once, not a superior man above anyone. Because everyone deserved the same rights as him, though Wooyoung knew how that was impossible. But just one chance to feel like more than just a prince, it really should be a relief. If only he could really experience it though. Wooyoung could only wish and daydream of so many possibilities that will not become true and remain mere speculations.

But nevermind that, Wooyoung was surrounded by every type of animals: the same bunny that approached him earlier nuzzled up to his side and the prince stroked its ears, a squirrel curled up onto his lap and nuzzled him.

Soon, his song came to a close and he smiled widely at the animals around him. "I feel quite happy now." He sighed, still stroking the bunny next to him.

He sighed a second time and his face fell. "What am I going to do?" A bird tweeted at him, as if to ask what worried the young prince. "I can't seem to go back home because my stepfather wants me dead. And for a reason that still remains a mystery to me. Feels as though I will never find out the answer to it. I didn't do anything awful to my stepfather, so why would he act this way towards me? I do admit— he's been kind of bitter and harsh these few months, especially since my father passed....... But I don't understand."

The animals looked at Wooyoung sadly.

Wooyoung seemed to noticed and forced a happy face on. "Oh, I'm sorry I'm ranting so much. You probably don't want to hear my negativity." Wooyoung softly smiled. A real smile. "I'll just have to be happy! Like a warm hug! Warm hugs make people happy you know? Because hugs are always warm!"

Wooyoung giggled at himself, happy to be thinking positive again. 

"I guess my only question I want to ask is, do you know someplace where I could stay temporarily?" He asked to the animals around him. 

The animals all nodded at once and pushed him to his feet. The prince felt relieved of the fact that he could possibly find a nice house within these woods, at long last he won't have to sleep on the cold floor again. So with a horde of animals around him, Wooyoung followed them along another path in the forest, another livelier and brighter, with no rush to discover a place to stay.

The animals pulled and nudged Woo through the forest. It didn’t seem anywhere near as terrifying now, especially because he wasn’t alone; in fact, it was almost fun. With deer running alongside him, birds fluttering around his hair and head, raccoons and chipmunks running along the ground too, and the bunny and red squirrel bouncing along beside him, the young prince made his way carefully along the path that the deer and birds were showing him. It took him through the wood, past a waterfall, over the hill, twisting and turning as it went, until they reached the edge of the forest. Wooyoung stretched out his arms, rolling his shoulders a little before they carried on. As soon as he passed through the last part of the forest, Wooyoung found himself frozen on the spot.

In all his life, he had never seen anything so beautiful. Not even his kingdom could compare to the sheer beauty that stood in front of his eyes.

The world around him was in brilliant technicolour. The building from which he had emerged sat on the very edge of the meadow that chirped with life. The house at the very center of it all was woven amongst the tallest trees, as though it had simple grown organically from one of those thick oak trunks. Even here, on its perimeter, Wooyoung could hear the thrum of life: of plants and insects and birds singing out and filling the world with energy.

Behind the woods, mountains surged upwards from the ground, their snowy peaks kissing the clouds high above. And before him, the land ran down steeply from the forest, mile after mile of wild grass bursting with spilling foliage until it met the flowing river shining in the rule of the sun above like a deity. Flowers – with petals of fuchsia and indigo and coral and violet – bloomed at his feet and tumbled down the grassland like the jewels of a crown. Birds in candy colours soared in arcs, and great eagles roamed like mountains brought to life. Not even the castle was visible from any of the angles Wooyoung looked around in awe.

All this as the sun set into the ocean, a great amber ball splitting the sky into ribbons of topaz and gold. And hung in the sky like a dreamcatcher, three identical clouds aligned perfectly two above one below.

Wooyoung couldn't even draw breath. 

"Wow..." It's all he could manage to say, all he could comprehend: because this place, this _fairy-tale_ could not exist.

As previously mentioned, perhaps what was most strikingly beautiful to Wooyoung was the cottage a little way away from where he stood. It was simply a storybook cottage. Across a tiny bridge, built from bricks with a little gable roof of yellow, weathered stone, the cottage was nestled in the trees of the forest.

"Wow... it's so adorable and pretty." Wooyoung giggled out of his amazement, demeanor changing. "It's like a doll's house.

And quite frankly, look like a doll's house it did. It was quite small, but not enough for Wooyoung to not fit.

Climbing over a fallen log, the prince then rushed down along the path towards the little bridge with the deer as well as two bunnies hot on his heels. The other animals raced after him as he leaned down to glance through the window. He wrinkled his nose a little at the thick layer of grime and dirt that covered the window and, with a small shudder, he cleaned off with his hand a little circle for him to look through. Following his actions, two of the chipmunks did the same as well as a raccoon, the bunny and the squirrel. He frowned a little, trying to see.

"It's really really dark inside," he whispered to the animals, who all tilted their heads at him in curiosity.

Stepping away from the window, he wiped his hand on his pants and adjusted his slightly messy hair. He then leaned down and knocked on the door three times since he was a very educated boy and it was rude to not knock on people's doors before entering. When met with nothing but silence, his smile drooped a little and he knocked again. Met with nothing but silence again, he turned to the animals and shrugged.

"I guess there's no one home."

Trying the little wooden door, the handle turned easily and Wooyoung pushed it open, allowing the natural light to spill into the place. Standing mighty and tall like a king to go through the door— apparently the door was not as big as Wooyoung thought, but then again he didn't really a big growth spurt, so he could pass his tiny stature no problem, but he did wonder how a person 10 inches taller than him must have to lean down just to pass through the door— he looked around the place, face contorting into discomfort and grimacing.

The place was... _unkempt,_ to say the least.

And Wooyoung hated mess, disorganization and dirtiness.


End file.
